


A Man Worth Saving

by Writing_squiggle



Series: What He's Worth [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hanzo's awkward, He also saves you, and you patch him up, super awkward pre-pre-romance fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_squiggle/pseuds/Writing_squiggle
Summary: Walking home from work, you stupidly walk down an alleyway and meet a man who will eventually mean everything to you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to my other Hanzo fic, A Man Worth Forgiving(previously What he's worth), but still in the same universe. You don't need to read either before the other, Ill try to make these also self-dependent as well.

For the last few hours the only thing you had heard was the thrum of the lights above your head as you filled out reports. With a yawn your burning eyes glanced out of the window. Shocked at the darkness that settled outside you whipped to look at the clock. Realizing the late time you saved the files and booted down the computer, the holographic screen flickering off. Slipping your jacket on and grabbing your keys you turned the lights off in the office.  
  
Taking a quick pace you walked down the street to the bus stop and quickly boarded. Squashed between an old lady knitting a sweater larger than any human (or omnic) that you’ve ever seen and a man who was moving his head to his music blaring away from his earphones. Getting off at your stop, which honestly couldn’t come sooner, you walked through the glow of the street lights. Walking past some of the skyscrapers near your apartment you heard something rustle down the alleyway.  
  
Stopping mid-stride you kept listening, a few seconds of silence weighed on your beating heart until the clang of a trashcan getting pushed over startled you. Grabbing the keys in your pocket you threaded the keys through your fingers, and despite your better judgement you started walking down the alley.  
  
_This is how people get murdered_ , you scolded yourself while still slinking down the alley pretending the impromptu key fist would protect you.  
Noticing the trash can that spilled its contents across the ground your head tilted upwards, hoping to see a cat. Nothing prepared you for the mangled body of a man, arrow sticking out of his chest. You shoved your fist into your mouth to muffle your instinctive scream. You began to slowly back away but your hair was roughly grabbed, pulling you up. Blubbering words began pouring out of your mouth as a knife was pressed against your neck. Blood trickled down the blade as the man dug into the flesh.  
  
“Come out Shimada,” the man rasped, his other hand squishing your tear streaked cheek.  
  
You just shook in terror as nothing happened. Closing your eyes you were certain you that this was your end. Seconds dragged on as you heard a light thump and the man behind you began to gurgle. The knife clattered to the floor and warm liquid poured onto your shoulder. At the loosened grip you pried yourself away, your eyes whipped open to notice a burly man. In his clenched fist was a bow and the arrows that pierced the original man and lodged itself into the other’s gullet suddenly made sense.  
  
He opened his mouth, presumably to scold you for being stupid, but immediately launched towards you when he noticed another thug behind you. A shot rang out as he grabbed your waist and threw you to the ground. Blood blossomed from his shoulder as the bullet lodged itself inside. You gave a small scream as he tumbled onto of you, his face contorted into pain. He quickly tried to grab an arrow as five men started walking towards the pair of you but his arm refused to bend back, you grabbed it for him and he nocked it to his bow.  
  
His arm began to glow and as he loosed the shaft, hitting one of them firmly in the chest, something flowed out. Great blue dragons followed, tearing apart the other men and as they screamed in agony you hoisted up the archer from underneath his arm. He gave a small groan of pain as you quickly carried him to your apartment building. After a quick wave to your neighbour who went back into his apartment, he wasn’t going to touch this, you dropped him off on your couch.  
  
“Do you often let armed strangers into your apartment?” he watched as you started digging through sealed moving boxes for your med kit.  
  
“If you wanted to kill me you would have just left me there to die,” you absentmindedly said finally finding it, “You saved me and you’re hurt so I’m gonna help.”  
  
Throwing the bag next to him you opened it and pulled out a pair of tweezers. After a few quick breaths to calm your nerves, the stranger staring at you with his eyebrows raised, you started dig in the wound for the bullet. Giving an apologetic look at his grunt of pain you finally found it. Pulling it out you held it up slightly triumphant and fresh blood welled up from the wound.  
  
“So,” you jabbed a biotic solution into his chest, “what’s your name.”  
  
“You know what,” as he stared at you in response, “I’ll go first.”  
  
As you introduced yourself he shuffled awkwardly staring at the real estate magazines scattered across your dented coffee table before gruffly responding.  
  
“Hanzo.”  
  
“Well, Hanzo,” you leaned your hip out with your hand on it, “you smell awful, showers down the hall. I’ll even give you a pair of my ex’s pajamas so I can wash what you’re wearing.”  
  
His eye flickered in shock from the sudden domesticity but quickly acquiesced at your request. After a few minutes in the bathroom the door opened slight and the two of you swapped clothing. After shoving his clothes in the washer you set up the pullout in the living room. As you fluffed up the pillow Hanzo shuffled awkwardly into the room, his hair tumbled down past his shoulders and quiver and bow in his hands. You stared at the way his body filled out those pajamas much better than your ex ever had. He cough as you continued to stare at the tightness across the chest.  
  
“Sorry,” you awkwardly looked to the side, cheeks red as you realized how attractive Hanzo was, “You can sleep here for the night.”  
  
He opened his mouth, you assumed to argue based on the way his eyebrows scrunched together.  
  
“I insist,” you raised your hand, “your clothes won’t be dry for a while anyway. You might as well sleep.”  
  
As he situated himself in the bed you meandered into your own room, turning off the lights as you left. He simply stared at the ceiling for a while, reveling in the feeling of being clean, before falling asleep. When he woke you were gone, his clothes folded neatly beside him.  
  
Rolling his eyes at how naive you seemed to be, he quickly dressed himself. After a moment’s deliberation he folded the pajamas and left it on the pillow. Crawling out of the window he left to find his redemption. It wasn’t until a few days later that he noticed the note you tucked into his pocket.  
  
_Visit when you’re in town._  
  
On the other side you scribbled the address you were moving to and with a smile he folded it up again and tenderly slipped it back into the pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda apology for Softly Smile, and how mean i'm kinda being to Hanzo in that. Though I did want to continue with this.


End file.
